Immigrant in cramped studio fears she'll be forced out by new landlords

By Carolyn Said, San Francisco Chronicle
Isabella Pineda’s hands traced graceful arcs as she described her flight from El Salvador 27 years ago. Her fingers fluttered for emphasis as she talked in Spanish about the brutal civil war that killed her parents, her husband’s death of natural causes, and how she decided to come to California seeking a better life for her five children.
There is tragedy in her story, but also resilience, a remarkable determination to push ahead.
She held three restaurant jobs when she first arrived, barely sleeping, working one shift after another. It took seven exhausting years to save $27,000 to hire coyotes to bring her five children over, one at a time. Eventually she received political asylum, a green card and then citizenship. She landed a good job as a line cook at Pier 39.
Her hands fell to her lap like sheltering birds when she talked about the latest challenge in her life. New owners of her Folsom Street apartment building told Pineda and other tenants that they plan a major overhaul, adding four units to the six-unit complex and updating the existing apartments.
“They announced that they want us to vacate from here,” she said, her voice quavering. The owners offered the renters $5,000 each, she said.
“But with that I don’t even get to the corner,” she said. “I don’t want to leave from here. Where would I go?”
Pineda, now 76, has lived in the cramped studio for 24 years, almost her entire life in San Francisco. Every inch is filled with neatly arranged photos, mementos and necessities like cookware and clothing.
She shares the tiny apartment with her longtime partner, Armando Garcia, 66, who also fled El Salvador. Her youngest son, Samuel, 36, often stays there too, rolling out a blanket on the one patch of worn linoleum not covered by furniture.
“When I first moved here, it was very ugly,” she said. Gangs held sway; shootings and beatings were common. But the world she watches from her window chair has transformed. “It is tranquil here,” she said. “There is no longer gang violence.”
Pineda speaks little English. She is retired with Social Security and a modest pension. Garcia recently retired as an electrician — a gig he picked up while doing odd jobs — and isn’t yet sure what his income will be.
Pineda’s rent started off at $420 a month 24 years ago; thanks to San Francisco's rent-control policy, it is now $613.35. She doesn’t know how they could pay more or even scrape together funds to move.
“Everything is close by here, and I know everybody,” she said.
The building, advertised as having “great development potential,” sold in September 2013 for $1.3 million to an entity called SF Mission Tierra LLC, according to public records. Planning Department records show that the new owners have requested permits for a $1.2 million overhaul that will include adding four new units, extending into the large rear parking lot.
After repeated requests for comment, Jose Jimenez, the building property manager, e-mailed, “our renovation plans do not include evictions.”
Still, Pineda and her fellow renters remain fearful.
“We can’t stay here when they’re working on the building,” said Manuel Lobos, 59, who has lived there for 15 years. A construction worker, he struggles with erratic employment.
Like Pineda, he thinks $5,000 won’t be much help. “I’d have to go sleep under the freeway,” he said.
Some nearby neighbors also worry about the expansion. La Reyna Bakery owner Luis Gutierrez said an addition to the building’s rear would tower over his modest backyard, blocking any sunlight to the bakery and the apartment upstairs where he lives with his sister and their 89-year-old mother.
But Gutierrez is more concerned about the impact if Pineda, Lobos and the other residents are forced out. He even convened a prayer circle to focus on the issue.
“Lots of people we once knew are no longer here,” Gutierrez told the group after an opening to honor their ancestors. “We want to build a support group for our neighbors. Change is happening in our community; families are being displaced.”
As a tenant in a rent-controlled apartment, Pineda has more protections than she realizes. San Francisco regulates relocation during construction work, requiring that each tenant receive up to $15,000 for temporary housing. Tenants have a right to reoccupy their units at their original rent.
But some unscrupulous landlords take advantage of naive renters by sidestepping those rules, said Eric Lifschitz, a tenants rights attorney. “Landlords use the need to maintain, repair and rehab their rental units as a means to drive long-term tenants from their homes,” he said. “It happens all the time.”